


The Purpose of Family

by Darkwolfthewriter (Darkshardthedestroyer)



Series: My Dad's An Emotionally Constipated Bat... But At Least He Tries [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alfred Pennyworth is So Done, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily (DCU) Fluff, Batfamily Drama (DCU), Batfamily Dynamics (DCU), Batfamily-centric (DCU), Bruce Wayne Has Feelings, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating, Bruce Wayne is So Done, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Damian Wayne is a Brat, Dysfunctional Family, Family Bonding, Good Bro Jason Todd, Hurt Jason Todd, Hurt Tim Drake, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Jason Todd Whump, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Protective Batfamily (DCU), Team as Family, Tim Drake Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:47:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23834848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkshardthedestroyer/pseuds/Darkwolfthewriter
Summary: After a misunderstanding about a mission gone wrong, Jason charges off without revealing how badly he was injured. Not willing to let his son slip through the cracks again, Bruce seeks out Jason to make amends... making a horrifying discovery in the process.The bat has made his fair share of errors in the past, but nothing -not even Jason himself- is going to stop Bruce from helping him walk the painful road to recovery.(Serious Jason Whump) (Batman's Trying to Be a Good Dad)
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: My Dad's An Emotionally Constipated Bat... But At Least He Tries [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1717066
Comments: 16
Kudos: 368





	The Purpose of Family

"-yo -e so -ckless? I tho-t I -rain-d -ou -etter than -hat! yo- ould -ve got-en -illed!"

Jason flinched. Either Bruce's tone was coming in too loud or not at all. His head was on fire. He was aching from his scalp to his toes; and at this point, couldn't care less about Bruce's lecture.

Jason Todd was a screw up. Everyone knew it at this point. Heck, he was such a screw up that Bruce had replaced him... _twice._ It hurt, to be replaced. A lot of things hurt. Having your ribs smashed in by a baseball bat. That hurt. Falling at least two stories. That hurt... a lot. He'd know. Bruce wouldn't. He hadn't told the bat that he'd taken a beating for Timbo... well- it wasn't like the Bat had given him much a chance. Apparently a gunshot wound to the shoulder overrode any logical conversation anyway. Tim was sleeping comfortably, and totally not able to regale the bat with tale of Red Hood's heroics. 

"Tim alm-st g-t kill-d! -hat -ere you -inking?"

Jason shook his head. He'd wanted to do follow up, make sure Tim was okay. Now he was done. On any other day, he'd at least humor the bat; but tonight, he was too hurt to see straight... much less to bother. He wanted to get back to his safe house, wrap his ribs, and sleep off the pain. He was watching spots lazily float in his vision, but Bruce couldn't see the way his face was pinched in pain past the emotionless Red Hood.

"Goodnight." Jason said, not bothering to put the effort into seeing whether or not Bruce was still talking. He couldn't hear very well anyway. Probably had something to do with the explosion that brought the building down. He saw Alfred's eyes widen slightly as Bruce's jaw set. He turned his back, but Bruce suddenly had him by the arm. The bad one.

_Pain pain pain pain_

"ja-n"

He wrenched his arm free, staggering slightly and biting back a cry as his overtaxed nerves sent warnings down his shoulder like a really bad relentless stab wound. Alfred reached out to steady him, but Hood casually waved him off, clambering on his bike and waiting a moment for his vision to clear. Steering with one arm would stink, but he had no intention of sticking around to be pestered and blamed for something not at all his fault. They were saying something, but Jason was beyond the point of comprehending it. The bike roared, speeding out of the cave before either Alfred or Bruce could figure out a way to stop him.

* * *

"Sir, he seemed rather unsteady."

"He didn't mention any injuries." Bruce replied flatly, eyes narrow as the headlights of Jason's bike vanished down a twist in the rocky tunnel. It was more of a question. _Why wouldn't Jason report his injuries?_

"Perhaps its just my perception of time going askew in my old age... but it didn't seem as if you gave him opportunity or _reason_." Alfred replied, smoothing back a lock of Tim's hair and leveling Bruce with one of ' _those_ ' looks. The Bat's frown tugged deeper. "I happen to know that Master Jason tunes out approximately half of what you say on a _good_ day... and what do you think he does on a bad day like today... hmm? You were rather harsh."

"I.." For a moment, it looked like Bruce might argue, but instead, his shoulders deflated. "You're right."

Alfred raised a silent bushy white eyebrow before folding his arms across his chest. "The next logical course of action would be to go tell him that... and make sure he's not bleeding internally."

"I _knew_ that, Alfred."

The old Butler pulled a blanket over Timothy with a concerned look in his eye. If the kids were here, they might be rightly wondering who had kidnapped Batman and replaced him with someone who could actually bear to admit to a mistake... But Alfred knew the truth. Bruce really didn't want to lose Jason again.

* * *

Jason didn't crash until after he got home and upstairs. By the time Bruce was prying his motel window open, he found his son slumped against the wall next to the bathroom, helmet off, blood sluggishly dripping from the corner of his mouth. Despite being half conscious, as soon as Bruce's heavy boots hit the floor, Jason had his pistol aimed squarely at the bat's head. Blinking measurely, the boy finally registered who the intruder was.

"Come to-" He broke off into a pained cough. 'Yell some..." His breath hitched. "... more?"

Batman ignored the question, striding over to his son and dropping to his knee pads. Gently, he probed for a pulse, placing his other hand on Jason's cheek. It was fast, too fast, but still there. 

"Where are you hurt?"

"Doesn't... gah... matter." Jason shoved his hand away, flinching slightly to the side as the movement pulled on his ribs.

"Stay still." Bruce scolded, catching his arm and setting it back down. "It does matter. Now you can make this easy for me, or I can drag you back to the cave and stick Alfred on you. We both know that would be unfortunate."

Jason chuckled, jaw tightening and fingers curling as he broke off into a wheeze. "'pl'se...don't make me... laugh."

"Jason."

"Ribs... fell into a..." He stopped to catch his breath, fighting to keep it from hitching. "dumpster... Smthin's wrong... with.. m'shoulder."

Taking a deep breath, Bruce sighed and pulled his cowl back. The best place to treat this was the cave. But an injured red hood and the batcave were rarely a great combo. He'd have to treat him here, call Leslie perhaps. First he needed to get a look. "Can you stand up?"

Jason looked at him, trepidation in his hazy green eyes. "Don'... m'ke me."

"I need to get a better look at you." Bruce stated, clearly using his 'I'm batman so do what I say' tone." Jason reluctantly tried to get his arm under himself.

That's when his jaw locked and Bruce heard a pained noise from the back of Jason's throat. His arm gave out, skin flushing way too pale. How on earth had he been standing back in the cave? Jason sagged, breathing in jagged shallow little huffs; and the bat put a hand on the side of his face, letting his fingers tangle in the hair above Jason's ear. "Okay, okay. Easy."

Without much of a second thought, Bruce picked Jason up as gently as he could. Back six years ago, the kid had been robin sized; now he was grown up, nearly too heavy for the old bat. Jason paled, but his overall lack of protest or response left Bruce more worried than usual. On most days, he would have vehemently protested being carried by anyone other than Bizarro... who somehow had the right despite being an offshoot clone of superman.

Bruce carefully settled Jason on his own bed. "First aid kit." He demanded quickly. The Red Hood jerkily motioned to the bathroom, rolling onto his side and into a fetal position despite the roaring agony it caused his ribs.

Gotham's protector must have found it pretty quickly; because his irritated sigh filled the room. "Why is your first aid kit looking this skimpy" Hood blinked, and Batman was looming over him, half empty first-aid kit propped open in his arms. Jason gave him an exhausted look that bore the shame of the truth. He'd been in a string of bad luck lately, more bullet holes and stab wounds than he could count. Batman would call it reckless; but the Red Hood considered it ambitious enough to warrant the wounds. "You know what? Forget I asked."

The bat sat down on the edge of the bed, placing the kit down and gently rolling Jason onto his back. " Lay flat; it'll make it easier to breathe... I'm going to check your ribs. Just try and relax, alright?"

Jason nodded jerkily. Bruce gently ghosted his hands over the teen's ribs, pressing each one. More often than not, Jason gasped and gripped the sheets in a white knuckled fist as ribs creaked and shifted beneath gentle yet careful calloused fingers. Bruce would have to frequently remind him to keep breathing in and out, give him a moment to breath through a particularly bad break, or consider running for a trashcan. They were only about half way through when Jason inhaled sharply. "Stop." He breathed, black clouding his vision. The old bat complied, pulling his hands away from his son's sides.

Jason was breathing shallowly, pushing himself up on his good elbow and staring blankly at the wall across the room as he tried to get his breathing under control. Bruce placed a hand behind the back of his neck and another on the undamaged section of his chest to keep him supported.

After a long moment, Jason swallowed thickly, eyes squeezing tightly. Already Bruce's prognosis was grim, but the old bat kept it to himself. "Lay back, Jason. I'll try to be gentle." Bruce urged, gently easing his son back against the comforter. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of prodding his damaged ribs, it was done... and Jason could just barely see his estranged yet surrogate father leveling him with a highly worried look.

Jason's half lidded eyes sluggishly tracked the Bat's every move as he debated calling Leslie here and now. If it were just the ribs, a roll of bandages would be fine; so Bruce moved to see if anything else was broken. Next he probed the boy's head, checking for any damage that might indicate a fractured skull. There were minimal injuries aside from an old cut that had already begun healing. Bruce moved to his shoulders, gently testing to see if anything was out of place. His fingers reached Jason's right shoulder and got an immediate reaction. Jason let out a whimper, back arching slightly off the bed.

"Easy! Easy..." Bruce soothed, pressing him back down. "Looks like your scapula has seen better days. I'm gonna have to call..." Bruce trailed off. He could feel the break under the skin, the way the bone had all but shattered. Jason had paled. In fact, if Bruce had one of those paint references from the store, his son would be on one of the very pale ones... possibly ghost. That was until the unmistakable green tinge blossomed across his son's cheeks. He'd seen that tinge too many times to _not_ know what it was. Perhaps being a father of six was enlightening when it came to the color green on someone's cheeks.

Instantly he was on his feet, grabbing the trash can from beside the door. In seconds he was back at Jason's side, helping his son sit up and lean over the help full little waste basket left propped between his legs. Bruce kept a hand on Jason's chest, one on his back, taking Jason's full weight as the injured teen dry heaved into the can. Thin bile dripped from his lips as he whimpered and gagged, arm wrapping around his ribs. "Breathe. Breathe, I've got you." Bruce assured as another fit left Jason pale and shaking. Bruce felt him go limp, head lulling against the older man's shoulder. He needed to call Leslie about some pain meds... and get Jason a new first aid kit.

* * *

"Unnn." Jason twitched, pain lancing through his stomach, through his shoulder. His right hand refused to move, but his left jerkily lifted to see what was causing him so much pain. He dragged his eye lids open, blearily watching his hand lurch towards the bandages. But they never made it. Instead, they were intercepted.

"Try not to move too much." Bruce commanded gently, setting his wrist back down against the sheets and patting it lightly.

Jason wrinkled his nose and lazily let his head flop in the man's direction. He frowned. He was in his room. Not his room at the safehouse, his room at the manor. He bit back a groan.

"Why am..." He croaked as his ribs ached in protest. "I..."

The wave of pain talking elicited drove him into reluctant silence, but Bruce got the gist of the question none-the-less. "You banged up your ribs pretty bad. I found you at your apartment... Leslie had to operate on your shoulder."

"Is it..." He didn't have the strength to finish the question, looking at his shoulder swathed in bandages as best he could. He felt Bruce lightly grab his chin and force his blurry gaze away from the wound.

"It'll make a full recovery, as will you. But you need to give yourself time to heal. I didn't want to leave you at the safe house... So I brought you home."

Jason nodded wordlessly. He could get into the whole 'this is not my home' argument when he didn't feel like every word was sending fiery daggers through his sides. He just wanted to sleep; and if it had to be in his old room in Wayne Manor, so be it.

"I'm gonna up your pain meds... let you go back to sleep."

"Wait." Jason's hand lashed out, catching Bruce's wrist before his surrogate father could twist the nob. "I gotta..." He grunted, breath hitching at the effort to speak. "Tell you-"

"I already know... Jason I can't tell you how sorry I am. I should have... I should have gotten the facts before I started doling out lectures." A heavy hand carded through Jason's hair, Bruce looking genuinely apologetic for the first time in quite a while. "Tim told me at least enough to be relatively enlightening... and I'd like to your version when you wake up again."

"Tell... the kid... I said thanks."

"You can tell him yourself." Bruce replies firmly, using his free hand to twist the nob up a smidge. "You're kinda stuck with him for the next few weeks or so."

Jason could vaguely remember blanching before his eyes slipped shut, relishing in the pain free, drug induced slumber. It was going to be a crazy few weeks.

* * *

**TBC- Next chapter... Two downed members of the batfamily and one very annoyed Damian Wayne... The chaos has just begun... MWAHAHAHA**

**Also, for another Jason-Centric story with Batman actually being a decent Dad... check out Blood Lust! Part one of this series...**


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